My Heart With You
by Suzie's Q
Summary: Princess Lily runs away without a plan or penny to her name, and the only one who'll help her is a commoner she's never met before. Royalty AU.


I don't own this. Thanks to Dee for betaing, you did spectacularly, and thanks to Anna for listening to me rant about this. Written for Jily Royalty Fest.

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**My Heart With You  
**Summary: Princess Lily runs away without a plan or penny to her name, and the only one who'll help her is a commoner she's never met before.  
Pairing: J/L  
Word Count: 12,546  
Rating: K+

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_My love, the reason I survive,  
trust we'll be together soon.  
Should our fire turn to dark,  
take my heart with you._  
- My Heart With You, The Rescues

* * *

Lily could hear the shouts from behind her, horses' hooves pounding on the ground as she fought her way through the trees, a torrent of rain splattering against the mud and the branches. Her dress was weighed down with water, slowing her pace as she forced a path between the clusters of branches. All she could see around her was the inside of the thick wood that surrounded the castle. She used to see it as a blessing, the dense forest that separated the castle from the rest of the world. The trees were so concentrated that the task of battling through them was nearly impossible. But while that blanket of trees had once been a promise of her safety, it was now the largest obstacle in her escape.

The rain only seemed to be getting heavier, like it was trying to beat her to the ground as it fell on her shoulders, pushing her back, slowing her down. Even in the daytime in this weather she would barely have been able to see through the thicket, but she hadn't chosen the prime moment to leave, and she was surrounded in deep darkness.

She could feel her arms and face stinging from scratches in the trees, but Lily couldn't afford to stop running. She had realized by now that she should have changed out of her heavy skirts, even heavier now that they were wet, as they snagged on everything and slowed her down, but it was too late to turn back, and there was no time to think of that now.

By this point, the shouts had faded into the distance, but that didn't mean that the two guards who'd seen her leaving weren't still following her. They could ditch their horses at any moment, they might know a shortcut. They had _swords; _they'd be able to cut through the woods so much faster. She breathed a heavy relief as a hazy light loomed far ahead of her.

The forest came to an end and she stumbled back against a tree, her sides and chest aching from the run. She gasped for her breath, ignoring a searing pain in her head and pulling her cloak – now a filthy, soaked rag – tighter around her as she broke into a run again, heading for the village.

She had just reached the fringe of the village as terror tightened its grip on her. She had never been to the village before. In fact, she'd never even been outside of the castle grounds. There was _no one _with her, no protection. No one who even knew the area.

She stumbled towards the village, fatigue starting to make her body ache, her legs burning with protestations with every agonizing step forwards.

The hoards of people in the village were almost as hard to get through as the woods had been. These people didn't seem to care that it was pouring rain. It mustn't have been too late in the night, because the taverns were still open, and people staggered on the street, some reeling drunk. From everywhere came yells and shouts, a ceaseless stream of a thousand conversations dissolving into one.

She was bounced and shoved in every direction, and tears burned in her eyes suddenly. No one had ever even _touched _her without permission, without dozens of pairs of eyes following her watchfully. Now, no one knew or cared who was under the hood, and if she was in their way, they would remove her.

She was trembling from the cold and the fear, but it was nothing compared to what she'd felt back at the castle. Her father's health, her mother's talk of marriage, the generals and the soldiers swarming around, discussing the threats from the attackers in the north at length. She'd been paralyzed by fear for so long. And now it had suddenly galvanized her, and no matter how petrified she felt now, she would never be as afraid here as she was at the castle.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and ambled forward, ignoring the searing pains in every part of her body. She was yanked back by a weight on her coat and went lurching to the side, stumbling into someone's chest with a yelp, her hands outstretched in front of her.

"You alright, miss?" A pair of hands steadied her, pulling her upright. She looked up into the concerned face of a boy with dishevelled black hair. He bowed his head towards her, and his hands were still firm on her shoulders, stabling her.

Tears burned in her eyes and spilled over before she could stop them, a lump in her throat so big she couldn't even speak. Her hands shook. Her head swam.

"Oh, blimey, please don't –" the boy swore loudly, his hands dropping to his sides. "Miss, I need you to tell me what's wrong. I can help you."

_Help her. _He had no idea how little he could help her. She didn't know where to go. She couldn't tell him who she was. There was no telling what he would do. At best, he would drag her back to the castle and leave her there to rot like the rest of them did.

The boy was looking at her with even more concern now. "Miss, where do you live? I'll take you there."

"No!" she gasped out, pushing against his hand. It didn't budge. "I can't – I can't go back..." She knew she was being irrational, borderline hysterical, but the very thought of how ardently her father would have disapproved only sent her further down a spiral of panic. Suddenly she found herself clutching the boy's shirt to keep herself upright.

"Alright, alright," the boy said hurriedly. "The inn then. It's just up here," he said, gesturing vaguely. He seemed reluctant to move her.

"The inn," she croaked, wiping her cheeks with her sleeve, though it didn't help to dry her tears. "The inn?"

She was trembling violently, and the boy's dark eyebrows knitted together. "It's just up here," he said in a firm, stabling voice. "Come on."

He led her up the cobbled path to a somewhat shabby building. There was light spilling from the inside and making the pavement glisten. It was full of life, and raucous shouts and laughter could be heard from the outside.

She stumbled inside, not knowing or caring where the boy disappeared to. He had opened the door for her, and she had lost him after that.

She fought her way through the cramped inn – everywhere were tankards and stumbling drunks and cackles and the smell of alcohol – and she kept herself as compact as possible, terrified that someone would grope her or attack her or fall on her.

She reached the wooden counter and leaned over it, gasping. "I need – I need a place to stay."

The man on the other side of the counter seemed unimpressed. "That'll be seven shillings."

She nearly lost her grip and went tumbling to the floor. "Seven what?"

The man just stared at her, raising an eyebrow. "You have to pay for a room, sweetheart."

She barely noticed the way the man addressed her. She was too busy struggling to take a breath. She almost saw black spots in her vision.

"But I don't have any money!" she forced out, her voice strangled.

The man shrugged. "Then you don't have a room."

Her head went spinning and she clutched the counter for support, the surface rough and scratchy under her fair, unblemished skin. She could hear someone yelling at her to get out of the inn, and she started to stumble forward when she felt a pair of hands grip her shoulders tightly.

"It's okay." It was the same boy as before, muttering consolations in her ear as he steered her from the pub out into the street, a look of grim determination on his face as he raised his voice to be heard over the spattering rain.

Lily started to stammer, not quite sure what she wanted to say. She was afraid to raise her face to this boy, lest he would recognize her and cart her back. But somewhere, the logical part of her brain still argued that there was very little chance he would know her face at all. It was her speech that would give her away, if anything, and since she could barely get out a coherent sentence, her eloquence wouldn't be a problem right now.

"It's alright, you don't need money," the boy told her calmly. "You can stay with me, I live just around the corner." She blinked, her eyelashes leaving a trail of raindrops to run down her cheeks.

"I – what?"

"My house is not five minutes away," he told her kindly, ducking his head to see her face. She just stared back at him, and after a few seconds, he brought a hand to her forehead, frowning with worry. Lily jumped and took a hasty step back as if she had been burned, her eyes flying wide as she stared at him.

"No," she forced out, her voice hoarse. "No, I couldn't possibly. I – I don't –"

"Have anywhere else to go," he finished quietly, gazing at her with apprehension. She was still for a moment, and then nodded silently, chewing on her lip.

"You can stay with me," he said again, nodding his head earnestly. "It's okay."

"It's not, it's not," she jabbered. "I'd have to pay you, I'd have to give you _something _for your troubles, and I've got nothing –"

He held up a hand to stop her, and like he'd placed her under a magic spell, she fell silent again.

"You don't need to do any of that," he said firmly. "I'm not about to just let you out here by yourself. You're clearly not from around here, and this is a dangerous place to be when you don't know where you're going, especially when you're alone. Please. Let me help you."

There was something in his pleading expression that put Lily at ease. She felt her shoulders relax and her face soften, while her stomach lurched in a new way that wasn't exactly comfortable, but wasn't unpleasant either.

"At least let me give you something to eat and some shelter while it's raining," he insisted. "You'll catch your death in those clothes, you're soaked to the bone. Let me give you something dry."

"I don't know your name," she said suddenly. She'd spoken before she had time to think of what she would say.

"I'm James," he told her slowly, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "I won't hurt you, I promise. I only want to help..." He trailed off, looking at her expectantly.

"Lily," she croaked, starting to shiver.

"Lily," he repeated, staring at her with an indistinguishable expression. "I'm going to help you, okay? Come with me, I'll take care of you."

Struck dumb, she nodded, and didn't speak until he steered her down a side street, leading the way and only placing a hand on her shoulder to guide her when she was going the wrong way, dropping his hands respectfully. Then, she began to ramble, thanking him profusely for his help.

"I've never – I didn't expect someone could be so kind – thank you – I can't repay you enough for this, you really saved me back there – I didn't know where to go – _thank you –" _

He waved her away with a small, kind smile and told her not to worry about it. It occurred to Lily that she had probably never said 'thank you' so much in her whole life than she just had in the past five minutes.

"It's just in here," he told her, his hand hovering awkwardly between the two as if he expected her to collapse on the ground at any second. She didn't really blame him for this. She must have looked terrible. She felt flushed and drawn at the same time. Her head was still spinning, and sometimes she felt so dizzy she had to stop walking for a moment until the ground stopped spinning.

No wonder he had taken pity on her.

He smiled encouragingly. "I'll get you into something dry. My sister makes bread sometimes, we can give you some of that."

Just as he was explaining how he'd help, he approached a tiny house and stepped back to let her inside. She hesitated, and slowly made her way inside. The inside was just as tiny as the outside suggested, and within five seconds of standing in the doorway, Lily realized that even though he was offering her all the help he could give her, he really didn't have very much at all. It was strange, how much people could give when they had so little.

"Here we are, come sit down," he said gently, taking her wrist and pulling her to sit down at the table, grabbing something that looked like an old cloak or blanket and throwing it over her shoulders.

"Lizzie!" he called. "Just wait here," he told Lily, hurrying up the stairs two at a time. She stared around while he was upstairs, trying to force her brain to understand how more than one person could have lived here. She thought of the castle, all those empty rooms doing nothing but gathering dust. She hadn't realized that so many people were cramped into such tiny spaces. Suddenly, the empty rooms at the castle seemed much more of a heinous crime than they had seemed a few minutes ago.

He returned a few minutes later with a young girl at his heels. She shared his black hair and his wide eyes, but the structure of her face was very different. Lily was busy admiring the girl's thick black eyelashes, when James spoke again.

"This is my sister, Lizzie. She's going to help you, alright?"

Lizzie smiled at her timidly and tucked her hair behind her ear, eyeing the redheaded girl curiously. Lily shifted her weight self-consciously in the chair, going pink. She was still drenched to the bone and covered over with a muddy cloak, her hair dripping and plastered on her forehead. She was shivering.

But the younger girl's face was kind and warm as she smiled encouragingly at her. She murmured a few words to her older brother, whose face became solemn quite suddenly. After a few hushed words that Lily couldn't make out, Lizzie held out her hand.

"I have something upstairs for you," she said brightly. "Something dry."

Lily stared at her. The little girl didn't know who Lily was. She didn't realize that the princess was sitting in their tiny house. She owed Lily _nothing. _And yet, she was choosing to help her anyway.

And so was James, she thought, as her eyes flickered to him. He was staring between the two of them with a quiet intensity, but he smiled when he caught her eye, nodding reassuringly. "It's okay."

She took Lizzie's hand and the younger girl pulled her to her feet. Lily felt unsteady on her wobbly knees. James didn't need to help her either. He didn't know that it was the princess he was helping. He would have felt it was his duty if he had known. But he _didn't, _and he had helped her all the same. Her head hurt with the effort to understand.

Lizzie led her upstairs and gave her some cloth to dry her hair. She found something for Lily to wear – a dress that looked like it wasn't very old, but hadn't been worn much – and raised her eyebrows as she took Lily's dress for washing, her shrewd eyes ghosting over the ornate embroidery. It didn't look cheap.

"I'll make you some soup," Lizzie told her with a warm smile, leading her back downstairs and hurrying into the kitchen.

Now that she was dry and warm and consoled, Lily could take in the little house better. It was very small, but it was cosy and pleasant. James had lit a few candles. He smiled in relief when he saw her.

"You look better," he said, nodding towards her clothes. He gestured towards a chair and offered her a blanket. He had a wet, warm cloth in his hand, which he pressed to her lip. She winced and tried not to jump. Her lip stung. Her cheek stung. Just above her eyebrow was stinging as well. He placed her hand over it to keep it there, before sitting opposite her.

He glanced over his shoulder in the direction his sister had disappeared before returning his attention to her. His gaze was unyielding, like something pulling her apart at the seams to see what was inside.

"How old are you?" he asked her calmly. He didn't seem at all displaced or perturbed by the fact that he'd brought a strange girl into his home while she was in the state of hysterics. Lily wondered if she was just one more in a long line of hysterical girls.

"Seventeen," she mumbled, picking at the loose threads on the blanket he'd given her. After a second or two, it occurred to her that they probably didn't have a lot of blankets to spare and it would be particularly rude of her to ruin it, so she dropped her hands in her lap and folded them in a controlled stillness that had been practically drummed into her since she was seven years old.

"What about you?" she asked suddenly, having noticed that James and his sister were the only two residents of the house.

"Eighteen," he said promptly. "I know I look about fourteen, I've heard it before."

"I didn't think that," Lily murmured, gazing at him. There was a boyish streak to him at first glance, admittedly, and Lily had immediately thought him a boy when she'd met him. But on closer inspection, that boyish exterior seemed to fade away.

He had a strong jaw line and a serious though collected expression, most of the time. His eyebrows were heavy and his mouth was in a thin line, and his eyes were dark and fiercely emotive. His arms were well-defined and his hands looked weathered and calloused.

And even though there may still have been a boyish sort of charm to him, it wasn't so much his appearance that made him seem more of a man with every moment Lily spent looking at him. There was something about the way he held himself, the way he spoke with clear cut confidence that made him seem so much older.

She didn't notice the silence in the room until he cleared his throat loudly, leaning forward on the table with his hands clasped together. Lily flushed and closed her parted lips, brushing her still-damp hair behind her ear. She dropped her gaze to her hands in her lap, finding that looking at him any longer made her feel like her insides were being set on fire.

"I have to ask," he said slowly. "Are you running from something?"

Lily was so surprised, she jerked upright and nearly fell out of her chair. James reacted so suddenly, hands outstretched, he pushed the table a few inches to the left.

"What – what makes you think that?" she said hoarsely.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Just a feeling." He could read her easily, Lily realized, her stomach plummeting. Had news reached this village yet? Did he know who she was? Was he going to send her back?

At that thought, her heart went diving too. She liked the house, its warmth and homeliness, and she liked the occupant. He was handsome, she thought to herself. She hadn't gotten a good enough look at him yet, she didn't want him to take her back already.

She swallowed. "I suppose," she mumbled. "I wouldn't really call it that, but..."

"Are you hurt?" he asked then.

Lily was startled that he wasn't pressing her any further about whom or where she was running from, though after a second or two, delayed relief coursed through her.

She shook her head, astonished to find that tears were piercing the back of her eyes. "No," she mumbled. His eyebrows knitting together in concern, he leaned forward and gingerly pried the cloth away from her lip.

"The bleeding's stopped," he informed her, and with a sinking feeling, Lily realized that he didn't believe she wasn't hurt; he probably thought that this was just the least of it.

She gulped. "It was just a few branches," she said softly. "Nothing... hurt me. I just couldn't see where I was going, it was dark."

He frowned. "Branches? You came through the woods?"

She blinked, freezing. She couldn't tell him she came through the woods. She wasn't sure, because she didn't get out of the castle much, but as far as she knew, the only people who lived on the other side of the woods were the noblemen and the royal family. _Her _family.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I must have. What woods?"

He dropped it, to Lily's overwhelming relief. But he wasn't finished with his questions.

"Is someone chasing you?"

She looked up at him sadly, and felt a little out of breath all of a sudden. "How would I know that?" she whispered.

He conceded that with a nod of his head, brushing a hand through his dishevelled hair. Lily fought a smile as she watched the gesture. The men of the court had perfectly combed and kept hair; he would have stood out like a sore thumb. But it suited him. It was attractive.

"Alright," he muttered. "Do you have anywhere you can go? Family around?"

Fear gripped her heart as she shook her head. He nodded, his mouth set.

"That's not a problem," he said. "You can stay here. I don't want you to think I'm trying to get rid of you. I only asked because I thought you might be more comfortable with family, if they were close by."

She doubted that, but she kept those feelings to herself. The very thought of her family made her stomach churn, and she squeezed her eyes shut, taking shaky breaths.

James seemed to realize there was very little more he could extract from her tonight. "Come on," he said with a warm smile. "I know you've had quite a day."

She started to shake her head and tell him that she didn't need his help (though she knew she did), but he cut her off. "You're staying here tonight. I'd feel terrible if I sent you away. He was already on his feet, extending an arm towards her. "I've made up a bed for you. Lizzie's put out something for you to wear."

She didn't have the presence of mind to thank him profusely as he led her upstairs and into a small room, which was obviously a girl's bedroom.

"Here you go. I'm not sure what you're used to, but it's warm, at least," he said, with a cheerful tone.

"Thank you," Lily croaked, nearly struck speechless as she sat down on the bed and marvelled at the kindness of these strangers.

He shook his head.

Lily blinked up at him for a second and he stood, hovering in the doorway. Lily waited for him to speak, and when he didn't, she found that her lip had started to quiver.

"What am I going to do?" she whispered into her hands, biting her lip to try and stop it from shaking. She hadn't thought this far ahead. She didn't even have any money. She had just fled, and now she had no way of fending for herself.

James just looked at her curiously. "You need rest. We'll figure out what to do tomorrow. I'll help you," he assured her.

Lily's heart stuttered as he ducked his head and left the room, shutting the door behind her. She changed into the clothes that his sister had meticulously laid out. The bed was bigger than she had thought it would be.

She slept soundly, and woke the next morning without even remembering when her head hit the pillow. Every inch of her was stiff, but that satisfying kind of stiff after a long, still rest. The sun had peaked out from behind the clouds, and was now beating down strongly. She smiled as she opened the window and let in some fresh air. This could still work, she thought to herself. She could still leave it all behind her. She had to believe that.

XXX

James paced around the small kitchen as he waited for the mystery girl to emerge. She had seemed so shaken, so afraid, he didn't dream of waking her up. She needed rest.

It was Lizzie's turn to make breakfast, and it seemed like she was back to her old self again. For weeks now, months, she'd been as silent as the grave. But today, she was as talkative as she had been before all the hardship in their lives. She even bounced as she made the food.

"And she's so _pretty, _James, isn't she?"

He nodded distractedly.

"And that hair, it's such a beautiful colour."

He nodded again.

"And Lily's a lovely name too. She seems so lovely."

He nodded. That one actually registered with him. The girl upstairs _was _lovely. She was more than lovely. And she had definitely captured James' attention, and would have in normal circumstances. But these were not normal circumstances, and he was far more concerned with her wellbeing to take into account how attractive she was.

She couldn't have just turned up from nowhere. It was rare to find someone like her – who looked sheltered and delicate – travelling by herself. And though James had considered the idea that she was travelling with someone else, he had ruled that out. She was all alone, and it _bothered _him. He couldn't put his finger on why it was so troublesome to him, but he felt a pull towards her. He had to help her.

Something niggled at him from the back of his mind. _It's what his father would have done. _

This girl seemingly had no family, not a single penny to her name, or anywhere to go. James didn't know where she could have come from that she couldn't go back to. Surely she would have thought to bring money if she knew she couldn't go back? Something here didn't make sense. Something here was very, very _wrong. _

And yet, it didn't feel like bringing her here had been a mistake. In fact, that felt remarkably right.

He needed to talk to her. Properly. She probably hadn't noticed last night, but she was so tired, her answers had been barely coherent. He glanced at his younger sister – she reminded him so much of Will – and cleared his throat.

He needed to talk to Lily privately. If his feelings were right – and they usually were – he didn't want Lizzie to get caught up in the middle.

"You did make her something to eat, didn't you?" he asked her.

"Of course, James!" she replied, sounding offended. "What kind of hosts would we be if I didn't?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I was just checking. Listen, aren't you supposed to be going to get milk today?"

"Well, yes, I was," she began slowly. "But it's been so long since we've had anyone stay. Not since..." She trailed off, swallowing. "I wanted to wait until she was awake."

James shook his head. "No, you go ahead. I need to talk to her anyway."

"Oh, James!" she whined.

"She'll be here when you get back," he assured her. "I promise."

She gave in.

Before she left, she made sure to hug him tightly around the middle. "Be careful, okay?" he told her, like he always did. "Really careful."

He waited in the silence, drumming his fingers on the table, on his legs, anything to keep them occupied, until this mysterious girl with dark red hair slowly descended in a plain white dress that had belonged to his mother. Lizzie must have gotten it ready for her. For a fleeting second, James thought she looked like an angel.

"Good morning," he said, scrambling to his feet and hovering, his hand jumping to his hair. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Very well, thank you." Her voice was soft. The very sound of it made him smile.

"Well, please, sit," he said, gesturing towards the chair. "Lizzie's made breakfast. You must be starved."

He thought he saw her head nod a fraction, before she stopped herself. He frowned as he pushed the food towards her. She was strangely reserved.

Lily sat down awkwardly and cleared her throat, trailing her fingers through her hair. "Thank you for helping me," she said softly. "I know you didn't have to. I didn't expect anyone to . . ."

James sat opposite her and watched her curiously. "You don't have to thank me for that. It's what anyone would have done."

She blinked up at him, her cheeks going pink as she met his eye. "I don't think you're right about that."

His eyebrows shot up, but he said nothing more on that. Instead, he cleared his throat and nodded towards the food. "Go ahead, eat up. I'm sorry it's not a lot. We don't have much..."

Her eyebrows knitted together. "Your parents don't work?"

He was quiet for a second too long, his heart breaking into pieces once more. But this girl didn't know, she couldn't have known.

"They're dead," he said quietly, staring at the table.

Lily paled. "I'm so sorry – I'm _so so _sorry, I had no idea..."

He waved her off. "It's alright. I'm used to it by now. You didn't know, don't worry about it."

She looked distraught by the matter, and the corner of his mouth tugged up a small bit. "Really. It's fine."

He didn't know if his tone was very inviting or not, but there were questions practically burning on her lips, and she asked them anyway. Her curiosity was new. Refreshing.

"So, you take care of your sister?"

"I do. I took care of my brother and sister when my parents died. It wasn't easy, you know, because I had to earn money as well."

He had to stop himself from flinching away at the look of pity on her face. Of course she would pity him, he reminded himself. It was a tough situation. It didn't make him weak to accept pity.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," she said, in a way that was oddly poised. It was nothing like the frantic, panic-stricken girl from the night before. "It must be very hard, taking care of her."

He nodded slowly, just as Lily started to eat. "It could be worse. We don't have a lot of money, but we get by alright."

He was taken aback by the look on her face. She looked confused.

She was quiet for longer than seemed normal, but James was content to stand back and observe her. Lizzie had a good point; she was lovely.

She was lovelier than lovely. She was beautiful. Her skin was as white as her name suggested, unblemished, as if she'd never seen the sun. Everything about her seemed delicate – the way she held herself, her smooth skin, her fingers without a single callous – but at the same time, she didn't seem frail. There was something strong in her expression, some sort of determination. There was something slightly different about her than the girls around here. Even Lizzie, who was only a child still, had rough hands from work, sometimes came home with streaks of dirt on the end of her dress.

"Are you from around here?"

She was quick, but not quick enough. James saw the flicker of surprise and fear flash across her face. She rearranged herself and sat up a little straighter. James furrowed his brow. She had poise that James wasn't used to. There was something…_proper _about her.

"To be honest with you," she said hoarsely, staring down at her clasped hands. "I don't really know where 'here' is."

If James had had any doubts that she hadn't come from somewhere nearby, he was now sure. He brushed a hand over his jaw and felt a strange desperation to rectify that. After all, just because she wasn't from here didn't mean she didn't _belong _here. And she could. She could belong here, with him. And Lizzie, of course.

And he would have liked that. He would have known she was safe that way. She would have _been _safe, he would have made sure of it. She might just belong here. But he didn't know why he felt that way. He just wanted it to be true, without understanding.

"No idea at all?" he prodded.

She shrugged, her cheeks going pink. She pulled and played with the ends of her hair, the deep, rich colour standing out starkly against her pale fingers. "I know that there's a castle somewhere near here. Near enough. I think."

He nodded. "Not as near as you think, but there is."

"It doesn't seem that far," she said softly.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, maybe not, but the road is. You have to go all the way around. There are two or three small villages on the way there."

"Really?" she breathed, her shoulders sagging.

He nodded, his laugh a little shaky. "About that. I'm not sure, I haven't been there. Why, did you mean to stop off there?"

Lily blushed – and absurdly, he felt as though someone had knocked the wind out of him – and shook her head. "Of course not."

He sighed heavily. "Lily, who are your parents?"

She looked him dead in the eye, her mouth in a grim line, and James saw something in her eyes that he didn't quite comprehend. "I don't know," she said in a small voice. "I honestly don't know."

"You don't know where your family is?"

She shook her head.

"Not even an aunt?" he pressed, tugging at his shirt collar. He thought he was starting to feel desperate, but maybe that was a glimmer of hope he was feeling. Maybe she _didn't _have family. Maybe he'd get to see her again. "A distant cousin?"

"Not that I know of," she said simply. James felt more relaxed. But Lily hadn't stopped speaking. "I'm very grateful for your help," she told him, staring down her hands. "I hope you know that."

"I do," he said quickly. "But you don't have to – it was the least I could do –"

"No," Lily said firmly. "It wasn't. The least you could have done was nothing, and I don't know what I would have done if you had."

The idea chilled James to the bone, and he felt a physical urge to protect this girl, keep her pressed close to him so no harm would come to her. He knew that he didn't want to leave her to her own devices. Ever.

So many questions burned on his lips – this whole situation was so strange – and he took a second to speak, unsure of which to ask first.

"Lily, where did you come from?" he said eventually, leaning forward. "You must have had some sort of...plan."

She turned her head away, chewing on her lip. He swallowed, tearing his gaze away from her mouth after a minute. She didn't speak.

"You can tell me," he said in earnest, resisting the urge to lean forward and grip her hand. "I promise, I'm very trustworthy."

"I didn't have a plan," she admitted. "I wasn't really concerned with where I was going."

"Just where you were coming from," he added for her, nodding and frowning in thought. "I see."

"I can go," she said quickly, swallowing. James noticed the way her cheeks coloured. "I've already stayed my welcome here, I shouldn't have assumed – I should never have let you give me a place to stay, I should have just –"

"You can stay another night," James blurted out, feeling his cheeks go warm. "I mean, it would be no trouble. In fact, I'd rather you did."

The shock was obvious on her face. "You would?"

"Of course. I'd rather you stayed here, safe, until we can figure out what to do."

"Am I safe here?" she whispered.

"Of course you are," he said, nodding earnestly. "And you're more than welcome."

"Just until I can sort this out."

"Until _we _can sort it out," he amended, nodding and smiling at her encouragingly. She was eyeing him with apprehension, like she expected him to leap up and yell that this had been a trick. Perhaps she was afraid that he would hurt her. He wondered if she was hiding from someone, whether there was someone he should be turning her over to right now. But he wasn't going to do that.

Like no other girl he had ever met, she was a light.

He sighed. He couldn't decide if he wanted to find this girl's home and deliver her there safely, or if he wanted her to stay here. She seemed to glow, and James was starting to fear that the world would become dark once more if she left.

XXX

Lily tried to stop it happening, but eventually one day stretched into two, three, four days. Every day, they had the same argument, though Lily could hardly call it that. James insisted that she stayed until she had sorted out where and what she wanted to go and do, but Lily protested that she was imposing on them, and couldn't do it any longer.

She had noticed how long James spent working, and the meagre income it produced. Even Lizzie did small messages for other people with more wealth, just an odd thing here and there to bring in a little more money.

They were so happy to share their food and home with her, and it didn't escape her notice that they did not have much to share. She didn't try to ignore it, James' worried frown at the amount of food in front of them. He always gave Lizzie more food; Lily hadn't failed to notice that either. But Lily also found she couldn't ignore the guilt that surged through her. They worked so hard, and barely had enough to get them through, and yet still, they shared everything they had with her, and seemed more than delighted to do so. And Lily had everything. She had endless sums of money, and she hadn't had to lift a finger for it.

She wanted to help them. It almost galvanized her into returning to the castle, if only to gather up some money for the small family she had grown to care for.

What stopped her was the knowledge that James would never accept money she tried to offer him, and with that in mind, it wasn't worth going anywhere near the castle.

Besides, Lily found that if she had been given a choice between the two lives, she would still have chosen this one. She liked the simplicity of it, the wonderfully simple idea that one could work and live, and apart from that, do whatever their feelings led them to do. No politics.

Lily liked this particular family. She liked feeling like she was a part of something, though she knew she wasn't. She liked it when Lizzie had gone to bed, and she and James would stay up talking for hours. Each night, she would tell him a little more about her life, though careful to never give away any details. Occasionally, she saw James' eyebrows knit together as she said something that didn't really make sense to him, but he never pressed her about it.

And he told her everything. He told her all about how he grew up happily, the oldest of three siblings. He told her about his parents dying – he didn't offer any details about their death, and she didn't ask – and how their brother, at thirteen, had followed soon afterwards.

She loved talking with him. She knew she loved it too much, and she had already become more attached than she should have done. That was why, on the fifth night, when James had already put Lizzie to bed and told her he loved her, Lily waited with purpose to speak to James. At the same time, she wished he would never come downstairs so she would never have to say what she had planned.

It was late by now, and Lily knew she should be tired. But truth be told, in the last few days she'd felt more awake than she had in her whole life. Her heart was shattering to pieces at the idea that she was going back to the blurred, dull sleep that was her life in the castle.

She didn't have to go back to the castle, she reasoned with herself. But she knew it wasn't her freedom that had awakened her. It was _him. _And she could hardly bear the idea that after a few short days, a person would mean so much to her, and she would have to leave. But he had little money, and she had no way of reaching hers, and she could not take any more from him. Not when he didn't have it to give.

James spent a lot of time sitting at the table, she thought to herself as she drew up the seat opposite him. He always looked so deep in thought. Lily couldn't deny that she admired that.

"Lizzie's asleep?" she asked. He nodded slowly, and once his eyes met hers, they never once moved away. "James, I want to thank you," she said quietly.

"You know you don't have to."

"I know, but I want to," she said quickly. "You don't know what you did for me, how grateful I am. I won't ever forget it."

After a beat, frown lines appeared on his face. "Lily…You know that you're welcome to stay as long as you need."

Her heart swelled, but she shook her head. "No, no. I'll be moving on soon enough."

He blinked at her. "What?"

Lily bit her lip. "I can't stay here, James. I have no money, no way of earning my keep here. You've got to take care of your sister." He was shaking his head, but she ignored it. "I'll be on my way soon enough."

"Where are you going to go?" he asked.

"I don't know yet. I'll work that out. I'll find some work, I'll get money. I know I can." She noticed then that she was on her feet, as if to prove her point. She could be by herself.

He was staring at her like he'd just swallowed something unpleasant. "I don't want you to go. You can stay here, you can stay with us." He jumped to his feet, closing the space between them. He gripped her shoulders. "Stay here. You're safe here."

"I can't –"

"You can," he insisted. His hand went to her cheek and she jumped slightly, staring up at him. She couldn't _breathe. _"Lily, stay," he murmured. His thumb brushed over her cheekbone. She felt her skin tingle and her blood boil wherever he touched.

She opened her mouth to speak. Nothing came out.

His brows were furrowed together, and even in her dazed state, she realized that she had never been this close to a boy; no boy had _ever _touched her skin, had made her feel like she was about to burst into flame.

"Lily, stay with me."

She stared at him, struggling to regain her breath. The rest of the world had faded away. She was frozen solid. His fingertips left a blazing trail behind as they moved across her cheek, finally meeting her lips.

It might not have been the best moment, but she found her words again, and with the intensity of his stare, the hesitation in his touch, she needed to tell him. "I don't _want _to leave," she mumbled. "This is the nicest place I've ever been. These past few days have been more wonderful than all my years. I don't want to go."

"Then don't," he said softly. "I don't want you to."

"I just – I can't just stay here forever," she said softly.

He grinned fleetingly. Lily shivered as his nose brushed off hers. "Why not?" he muttered.

"Because it's not practical."

His hand fell away from her skin, and she felt like someone had ripped a hole in her chest. She gasped audibly.

"It doesn't matter that it's not practical," he mumbled, his face contorted into a pained pleading expression. "You're welcome here. Lizzie was saying just last night, we like having you here. It sort of feels like...you're what we've been missing."

She bit back tears, and willed her heart not to break. "James, you barely have enough money to feed you and your sister, I couldn't –"

"We'll work that out," he cut across her. "Once you're feeling up to it, I could find you a nice easy job, nothing too hard. And even if we can't do that, you can still stay. We'll get by."

"I don't want to bring that hardship on you. You work so hard for your sister." She tried to keep her voice firm, and she knew it was irrational to get so worked up over leaving, because she hadn't been there for very long, but the thought of going made her voice wobble anyway.

"Doesn't matter," he whispered. She suddenly became almost painfully aware of the proximity between them. She could have counted his eyelashes, thick and dark…

All of a sudden, Lily wanted to touch him. Not pat his arm like she normally would and tell him she was so thankful. She wanted to trace the lines of his face, his mouth and cheekbones. She wanted to run her fingers through his dishevelled hair. She wanted to let her hand brush down the length of his arm, to trail down his chest from his collarbone all the way to his stomach.

And she wanted him to touch her. She wanted to feel his hands cupping her face, her fingertips learning ever curve and line. She wanted to feel his arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling them chest to chest. She wanted to feel the firm movements of his fingers on her skin, gripping her at the waist.

The desire to just tilt her head up a fraction was more than she could resist, but just as her lips brushed his, he turned his head away, frowning worriedly.

Lily was speechless.

"It's late," he whispered, looking pained. "We should already be in bed."

She felt something deflate inside of her, and she nodded slowly. "Oh. Yes, you're right. I – I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said quickly, looking panicked to get the words out. "It's not like I don't – because I do want to – I do – I just…Not right now."

Hope and exhilaration burst inside of her like a bird taking flight, and she nodded. Biting her lip nervously, she reached forward and let her fingers lace through his. "We can always talk about this tomorrow."

He looked at her closely, his eyes flickering around her face as if he was studying it. He nodded, squeezing her fingers, and pressed his lips lingeringly to her forehead. "Tomorrow, then. Goodnight."

Feeling like her lips were burning where they had just barely touched his, she headed upstairs, and went to bed with the promise of his lips once more touching hers when she woke.

XXX

James had been taught the same lesson several times in this world. If things are going your way, it won't stay that way for long. Some things _are _too good to be true, and nothing lasts forever.

It had been the same story with his parents, and his brother no more than a few months later. Lily was no exception.

It was strange that he thought of them in the same way, when his parents and siblings were the dearest things he had had, yet she had only entered his life mere days ago.

It didn't matter. She had nestled for herself a place in his heart just as secure as Lizzie's, as his parents, as his brother's.

And just like his parents, his brother, even Lizzie one day, she wouldn't be staying forever.

He was just out on a small errand – it was the first time he had left Lily without him in the whole time she'd been with them – to pick up some necessities he could no longer put off getting.

That was when he'd heard the horses, the pounding of hooves so thunderous it could not have been only one horse. Only seconds later, the townspeople were greeted by glints of silver that almost blinded them, official looking noblemen and guards on horseback. They looked like their clothes had cost more than James made in a year.

He had no thought of that after a few seconds, he couldn't have cared less what they were wearing. All he cared about was what they had to say. What they were looking for.

XXX

Lily had spent the entire morning with Lizzie. The girl was wonderful company, though Lily couldn't get it out of her head that she'd much rather be with the girl's older brother. All the same, Lizzie was intelligent, funny and charming. Lily could see so much of her brother in her, in the way she ran her fingers through her long hair, in the way she laughed and in the crinkles that appeared at the corners of her eyes and her nose when she did.

She was, however, infinitely more pleased when James arrived home – that was, until she caught sight of his face. His mouth was in a hard line and there was no mirth in his eyes. He even looked a little paler.

"Lizzie. Can you go upstairs please?"

Lizzie blinked, her face falling as she blinked between her brother and the older girl. "Of course," she said after a few seconds, ducking her head and hurrying around James, glancing back at Lily with a worried glance.

James didn't speak for a few seconds, but paced up and down. He didn't meet her eyes, and Lily's heart started to thunder in her chest. She didn't dare to speak, and just waited, her eyes transfixed on him.

He brushed a hand over his jaw before he looked up at her, his face contorted with pain. His eyes slid over her to what was in her hands. "You got that clean, then?"

She glanced down at her dress. "Oh... Yes. I did."

He swallowed. He had finally focused his eyes on her, and didn't look away. "Where – where would you get a dress like that?"

She stared at him with wide eyes, feeling the colour drain from her face. Her heartbeat was loud in her own ears. She tried to speak, force _anything _out, but he didn't give her the time.

"Lily," he said firmly, taking a step towards her. "Tell me."

She shook her head, forcing back tears as she took a step back. He gripped her shoulders to stop her backing up any further, before snatching the dress from her hands.

"_Lily._ _Tell me! Where did you get a dress like this?" _

She bit her lip, and made the mistake of looking at his face. The hurt she saw there broke her heart. It was all she could do to just keep herself upright, staring at the dress and trying to stop her lip quivering.

He swallowed, shoving the dress back into her hands as he turned away, brushing his hand over his jaw again. "I heard something today. From the castle guards." She went rigid. "They're looking for someone. Someone who, as chance would have it, went missing right about the time you showed up here."

"James," she forced out.

"They said they were looking for the _princess," _he said, his voice cracking on the last word. He gazed at her, and she looked back at him, lost for words. She felt like he had ripped a hole in her chest, leaving her hollow and empty.

It could have been years, centuries, that they stood in silence before he spoke again. "You're her," he muttered dejectedly. "Aren't you?"

"James, please don't –"

"You're her. You're _her?" _

She nodded slowly, gulping. "It's just – James –"

"All the things I told you!" he cut across her, while she gulped and buried her face in her hands. "I told you about my brother, about my parents . . . Lizzie . . ."

"I know, I know you did, and nothing – nothing's changed, James," she said desperately, reaching for him.

"Lily, everything's changed," he spat. "Or should I say, Your Highness."

"James, I couldn't stay there!" she burst out, reaching for him a second time. He went to shrug her away, but she gripped his shoulders tightly. "Nothing's changed, I promise. As long as they don't know where I am, nothing has to change. James, look at me."

He shook his head like a child, his eyes trained on the floor.

"Look at me," she insisted quietly, bringing her hand to his cheek and pulling his chin towards her. Eventually his eyes focused on her, and Lily saw them saturate. "I'm still me."

"No, you're not," he whispered. He shook his head ceaselessly, looking like he was trying to convince himself much as her. "No."

"I am," she mumbled. She hesitated for half a second before pressing her forehead to his. His intake of breath was sharp and she felt his muscles tense as her hands slipped to his shoulders. "I promise."

"How am I supposed to believe that?" he muttered. "You lied to me. How can I believe anything you say?"

She bit her lip. "Because you want to." Her hand curled over the back of his neck and he swallowed audibly, squeezing his eyes shut. His skin was warm beneath her fingertips. "I know I'm not imagining this."

He let out a strangled, half-laugh, and for a second he jerked as if he was going to pull away from her, but he didn't. "Imagining this? Who _cares _if you're imagining it or not –"

"Am I?"

"Lily, you're the princess, they could lock me up for the rest of my life if we –"

"Am I imagining this?"

"And what would Lizzie do then, without me? I can't – we can't –"

"James, am I imagining this?" she repeated, desperation seeping into her voice. He was quiet and still. "James?"

He shook his head. "N-no. But, Lily . . . I just . . ."

She didn't need to hear anymore, and she knew if she didn't act now, she would never get the chance. He wouldn't _let _her have the chance.

She tilted her head up, pressing her mouth flush against his. He froze for a second or two, before he surged to life and responded, his arms encircling her tightly and his lips moving over the willing curve of hers.

Her body reacted to his in a way she didn't know she was capable of, her hands tangling in his hair and pulling him towards her. Pressed together, she could feel his heart thudding, and she knew he could feel hers, beating so hard and so fast it threatened to stop, but Lily needed it to hang on just a little longer, just for one more kiss. As close as they were, it wasn't enough. She needed him closer, she needed to feel every muscle and bone pressed against her own until he was all she could feel, all she could think about, all that mattered in the entire world.

Her whole universe was James, his lips moving with increasing urgency over hers until she felt her knees go weak, the feel of his hands moving over her sides with fumbling desperation, the trail of fire he left behind, the intoxicating smell from his hair when he moved his lips down to her jaw and neck, setting her alight. She thought she knew something about kisses, about passion, but this – this was _fire. _

He broke away and gasped for air; Lily felt his hands tighten on her waist. She frowned, her lips searching for his again and catching his chin instead. She felt him shiver.

One hand slid to his shoulder and gave it a small tug; that couldn't be it. She needed more, she needed to know every inch of him, she needed more of that delightful swooping sensation in her stomach when he pressed his lips to her skin.

His nose nudged hers, but he pulled his head back far enough so that he could look at her, his dark eyes never leaving her face. She paused and blinked at him, her frown growing deeper and deeper.

But James didn't move, or speak. He barely even blinked. He seemed to have no other intention but to look at her in the silence, and there was something about the look in his eyes so mesmerizing, she didn't dare disturb him, even when his eyes fluttered shut, though he stayed just as close to her.

They were still and quiet for a long time after they had broken apart; Lily had no idea if it was minutes, or hours, or even days. He kept his forehead pressed against hers and she didn't dare move, her skin tingling where it came into contact with his. His eyes were still closed and there were deep frown lines etched in his face as he thought. She didn't disturb him.

Eventually, he sighed and broke away from her. Lily felt like she'd lost a limb. He resumed pacing up and down the small room, his footfalls heavy and particularly loud in the silence.

"This isn't going to help anything," he murmured. "This – " he motioned between them and didn't finish his sentence. "What am I going to do?"

"James, you don't understand," she told him, taking a nervous step forward.

"You're right, I don't. How would I? I'm just a simple commoner, how would I understand . . ." he continued to mumble under his breath. He would barely look at her. Her heart shattered to pieces.

"Please, let me explain," she croaked. As his feet came to a stop with a heavy thud, she felt her heart stutter to a stop at the same time. He stared at her expectantly, and she took a deep breath. "Please, just try to understand. They were doing all these horrible things – raising taxes, increasing workloads..."

"Who's they?"

"My parents," she mumbled, wringing her hands together. "Everyone. Everyone who has any power."

He looked uncomfortable, but he said nothing, and she plunged onward.

"They – I thought I could stick it out, you know? I kept turning a blind eye to everything, to the whispers around the castle, rumours that the servants would tell me." Something flickered across his face at the word 'servants', but she couldn't identify it before it was gone, and she couldn't bring herself to stop and think about it now that she had started.

"And then it all got too much. They – I was – They wanted me to get married," she whispered, brushing away her tears impatiently.

His face remained impassive, but she saw a muscle in his jaw tighten and one hand jerked towards her like he meant to reach out for her.

She took a shaky breath. "I was so horrified. I didn't know this person at all, and he was cruel to the servants and then he laughed about it, and I didn't feel safe around him," she said, swallowing hard.

"I – I'm sorry," James muttered.

She nodded slowly, thinking. "I might have been able to deal with that. Talk my parents out of it, refuse. Lock myself in my tower, or something. But then . . ." She trailed off. He waited.

"Then, I heard of a new prisoner being brought in. A little boy," she mumbled. "Maybe fourteen, if that. Tiny little thing. Looked like he hadn't had a decent meal in months. They locked him up for stealing some food – some fruit, a piece of bread or something . . . And then they killed him . . ."

She made to continue, but she caught sight of James' face and stopped short. He had gone ghostly pale and rigid. She clamped her hand over her mouth.

"Oh, my god... No – Your – your brother . . ."

He jerked backwards as if she'd stung him, horror frozen in his eyes.

"James, I'm so sorry," she choked out, leaning forward and gripping his arm. Her head swam; her vision blurred and she felt something searing hot pierce her chest. "I'm so sorry," she coughed. Thick, hot tears fell before she stop them.

James wrapped a stiff arm around her, bringing her into his chest, where she buried her face and cried silently, forcing out words that ended up as a half-sob.

"I'm so sorry . . . I should have done something . . . That poor little boy, I didn't even know his name, I'm sorry . . ."

She felt his steady hand brushing through her hair soothingly, rhythmically. "Shhh . . . It's not your fault," he told her in a soft voice, again and again and again.

"Why didn't they come for me?" she whispered. "Didn't you tell them? Didn't they check?"

He shook his head, still clutching her to him tightly. "No, I didn't tell them. They checked, but you were out with Lizzie at the time. But, Lily . . . I know I'm a commoner, but I'm smart, and I know they'll be back."

"What do I do when they come back?"

He looked pained. "What do you think you should do?"

Her throat nearly closed completely, and she forced more tears back. "Can't you help me?"

"I'd help you, Lily," he said, without a moment's hesitation. "But I know you. And I know that you'll do the right thing. Maybe not today or tomorrow. But one day. And if you don't, you'll regret it."

"I won't," she whispered. "I'll be with you."

"I could get in so much trouble," he said, dropping his voice. His eyes were pleading. "What would happen to Lizzie if they found you here and took me away? They'd think I kidnapped you."

"I – I'd tell them you didn't –"

"They wouldn't believe you. At least, I don't think they would." He paused. "Lily, they'll be back, and they'll want to punish me for keeping you here," he said seriously. "My sister needs me. I can't let that happen."

She nodded slowly. She wished she could say that she didn't understand at all. That she expected more from him. But it wasn't possible to expect any more from that, and even though she felt the pieces of her heart breaking all over again, a burst of pride and admiration surged through her. He would make such a fine husband, she thought to herself, if only his blood would permit it.

"Then what am I going to do?" she mumbled.

He covered his face with his hands and breathed deeply for a few seconds, before looking up at her with a tortured expression. "I know what I have to do. You know you have to go back, don't you?"

"I can't," she whispered. "I don't want to."

He frowned at her, eyebrows knitted together. He looked so much older than he was. He had seen so much, and been through so much. He was weather beaten and matured beyond his years. But he was beautiful, and kind, and he made her smile like no one in the world ever had before. How could she turn her back on that?

"When I arrived here, I didn't want to stay because I was a burden to you and your sister," she said, her voice wobbling outside of her control. "And I couldn't ask that of you, to put me up and feed me and house me and clothe me. You barely have enough for yourselves. But you did. You insisted that I stayed and whatever you had, you shared with me. I know I haven't been here very long, but you made me feel welcome here. I have never felt that before."

"Lily, it's not that simple –" he protested.

"I belong here," she cut across him, her lip quivering. "I know it hasn't been very long, but I know I do. I belong with you. I can't leave you, James. I'll never see you again. And I can't do that."

"It's not like I want you to go," he insisted. "But you've got to, Lily. You're the princess, they need you. They need you for the same reasons you left."

She stepped back into the circle of his arms, and it wasn't until then that she realized she was shaking, badly. He held her tightly, reassuringly, and murmured in her ear, encouragements and promises that everything would be alright.

"Please don't make me go," she mumbled. "I can work, I can earn money, I won't be a burden-"

"It has nothing to do with that," he said softly, rubbing her arm.

She had no answer to that. "Don't make me leave you," she said instead. "I'm falling in love with you."

He was still for a moment, before sighing heavily. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh, Lily . . . Why did you say that?"

"Because I am!" she retorted hotly, embarrassed to find that tears were flowing again.

"But you're the princess, Lily. A _princess," _he said slowly. "And I'm . . . I'm just . . . I'm not . . ."

"I wish you were," she mumbled. "You are _everything, _in all the ways that matter."

"To you, maybe. But not to the rest of the world." His voice was hard. "How could I be this stupid?" he whispered, swallowing hard. His arm dropped from around her, and he blinked down at her. She didn't miss the pain in his eyes. But she also didn't miss the love in his eyes, or the burst of emotion in her chest. This was real.

He bent his head and kissed her softly, slowly, unpressured and unrushed. Lily didn't understand. He kissed her as if he had all the time in the world to be with her. But they both knew that they did _not _have all the time in the world. They didn't even have days. They had here and now, and not much more than that. What they had, all they had, was minutes.

XXX

"I'll never forget –"

"I know."

"I don't want to-"

"You need to. You'll be safe. It's where you belong. This country needs you."

"You think I can -?"

"Of course I do."

...

They hadn't spoken in a long time. The journey was long – James had borrowed a horse from a slightly wealthier friend of his, and walked alongside it, pulling the reins – and there was nothing to say between them.

He knew what awaited Lily once she returned: a husband. James had worn himself out imagining the type of man waiting for her. A man who didn't understand the importance of the smaller kindnesses, perhaps. Or perhaps a man who was kind, but wasn't perceptive. Perhaps a man who was very perceptive, but did not care for attention to detail.

Perhaps he was cruel. Perhaps he was handsome, and strong, and perhaps he would love Lily more than anyone else in his life. Perhaps he would deem her satisfactory to bear his children, and that would be as far as their relationship ever developed. Perhaps he would see no one but her when she walked in the room. Perhaps he would keep mistresses in every small village in the country.

And yet, none of that mattered, because he had money and a title, and that made him worthy of Lily. James felt a bitter taste in his mouth; not for a second did he believe that _he _was worthy of Lily, but he didn't believe that this other man could be worthy of an angel. And that was what Lily was.

James didn't know what awaited him when they reached the castle. Perhaps gratitude for bringing Lily back. But something niggled away at him, something that grew in its fiendish convictions as they travelled, the idea that what awaited him was a cell in the dungeons.

Away from Lizzie.

This was madness.

And all for a girl.

The castle had loomed into view before they spoke again. James had not intended on breaking the silence; he didn't think he'd be able to bear another goodbye.

Lily was the one who spoke, abruptly. "I love you, James."

He stared at his shoes. It was all he could do not to turn the horse around and steal her away, keep her safe. He fretted over things that should never have concerned him; whether or not she'd be happy, or treated right. He could be the one to decide both of those things. He _should _have been. And the thought that she _wouldn't _be, it tortured him as he walked.

She found his hand and gripped his fingers tightly. He gave a gentle squeeze in return. "Can't you at least tell me the same?" she whispered.

He sighed heavily. If he thought he could have lied to her, he would have done it. Instead, he pulled the horse to a stop and kissed her knuckles, murmuring the words into her skin. His lips travelled upwards, brushing lightly across the inside of her wrist and hovering there. He could feel her trembling. He whispered the words hundreds, thousands of times, his head bowed and his eyes closed.

Eventually, the horse gave an impatient start and edged forward. James stepped back, letting the horse go ahead; it didn't matter what he said to her, how many times he professed his love for her.

Not two minutes later, he heard her take in a sharp gasp, but when he looked up at her questioningly, she just shook her head. "I won't let them take you away, James," she told him, as if she had read his mind. "I have a plan."

He could have snorted and told her how much he doubted that anything of the sort would work. But he didn't.

XXX

The skin on her wrist where he had pressed his lips still tingled.

"I don't suppose we'll ever see each other again," James said, his voice resigned. She closed her eyes, yearning to grip his hand, for him to fold her up in his arms and keep her there.

"We might," she whispered, staring up at him. "After all, the kingdom reflects kindly on the man who saved the princess."

The corner of his mouth quirked up. He had stood and looked on with an expression of innocence as Lily explained that James had not taken her, but rescued her. Her story was simple and it saved James.

She told the entire court that James had found her on the verge of hysteria, and when she had fainted, he had taken her to a safe place and, with the help of his sister, nursed her back to health. She told them that she was unconscious for days, that he had brought her back as soon as she was well enough.

They would never know that she didn't want to come back at all. They would never know what James meant to her. They would never know how hard it was to let him go.

But _James _would know, when in a matter of days, a chest would show up at his door with enough money to make James and his sister more than comfortable, or when, in a few weeks time, Lizzie would receive a trunkful of Lily's old dresses.

Perhaps she couldn't stay with him, but if it was all she could do, she would make damn sure that he was well cared for. That he was comfortable, happy. He had given her everything she had dreamed of finding when she left the castle, and now it was her turn. She would give him everything he ever wanted. Except for her, a small voice reminded her. She pushed the thought down.

Their hug was careful, and as far from intimate as they could manage. She brushed away her tears before anyone could notice. Once his touch had left her completely, she was struck with the fear that in her entire life, she would _never _feel like this again.

She couldn't tell him out loud that she loved him, but she hoped her eyes were enough to communicate this to him. She smiled tearfully. "I'm so glad I met you, James," she whispered. "I won't ever forget. I promise."

XXX

The bride's smile never reached her eyes on her wedding day. Half of the country had turned out to greet the newlyweds, and her eyes scanned through the crowds with a hint of panic, though she found no familiar shock of black hair.

The servants and members of the court gushed and raved when she introduced the man who had saved her, at her birthday celebration, not two days later. She had spotted several curious gazes fixed on him, and felt a surge of vicious jealousy rise up within her.

No one mentioned that Lily disappeared for a peculiarly long time to say goodbye to this man. Some noticed, but no one mentioned that every time Lily went travelling, she seemed to be looking for something. No one mentioned that her eyes sought something out when they went to one of the nearest villages to the castle, again searching for that familiar mop of black hair.

No one mentioned that, two years later, the little prince had neither his mother's red hair nor his father's blond locks. His eyes were Lily's in every detail, but only Lily recognized the shape of his nose, the slight crookedness of his smile. Lily was the only one who saw something different when she looked at the boy. She was the only one who looked at her young boy and remembered the face of her first love, so strikingly similar to the face of her son.

Lily was the only one who privately smiled at the familiar way his tousled hair fell, notably dishevelled compared to the other boys of the court.

Lily was the only one who saw her boy every day, and even still, searched for him everywhere else. Lily was the only one who thought of two names when she looked at her son: _Harry, James . . ._ and she knew she always would.

She may not have ever seen James' face again, and perhaps she would never get to tell him what was burning on her lips to get free, but James would be with her, in his own way, always.

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